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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24335323">Why Him?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriter/pseuds/PhantomWriter'>PhantomWriter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:42:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,424</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24335323</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriter/pseuds/PhantomWriter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley finds out about Sam and Rowena. </p><p> </p><p>He's unhappy until he gets his own answers.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Crowley &amp; Rowena MacLeod, Crowley (Supernatural) &amp; Dean Winchester, Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Why Him?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>To begin with, Crowley wasn’t sure what he was doing here.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t as if they were magically alright after what they had been through since he was brought back from the Empty. No amount of mutual hatred for God himself could erase what had been the years of bad parenting and the terrible mother-son relationship they had. Rowena seemed to think of the same thing, fortunately, though while she didn’t start on being a doting and <em> caring </em> mother, it prompted her to call him for a few lunches and dinners to share together.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley could have stood her up, of course, but time and time again he was curious as to what she could have wanted from him because it was always like that between them, wasn’t it? Between him and anyone else, actually. No one would call him for a mere social meeting. Hell, he was brought back from the dead because he had been needed for something. Whatever she was about to ask of him, it must be quite difficult to obtain for her to continue this farce of civility this long.</p><p> </p><p>Fifth lunch in, Crowley was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.</p><p> </p><p>He never waited for her that long seeing as she would waltz in ‘fashionably late’ as she liked to call it. Today was no different.</p><p> </p><p>Or not, Crowley supposed, and he didn’t like what he noticed—correction, he didn’t like that he <em> noticed </em>.   </p><p> </p><p>She was smiling, and Crowley wondered how he could tell it was a genuine one when she finally sat across him. It wasn’t a smirk or a coy grin but an honest to goodness smile that actually lit up her face and made her look a bit younger.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was immediately intrigued and disgusted at once.</p><p> </p><p>“Let me guess,” he broke first. “Some measly coven made you their High Priestess.”</p><p> </p><p>Hm. Probably not. Leading a small coven of underrated witches would hardly spark immense pride in her anymore after she had been the Queen of Hell itself for a time. And she gave that up. Now that he thought about it, Crowley hadn’t been privy to the real reason why.   </p><p> </p><p>Rowena arched an eyebrow at him, a tad amused and willing to humor him. “No,” she said simply, shrugging.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley leaned back to consider. “Ah. You ensnared some pitiful, rich, old sod that will miraculously contact a mysterious terminal illness in the near future; hence, you’ll end up inheriting all his riches.”</p><p> </p><p>Rowena snorted at that. “No.” She rolled her eyes. “Though if you’re really curious, yes, it is related to me recently finding a semblance of…” she sighed wistfully, flicking a lock of her hair, “romance.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bloody hell, it’s that archangel, isn’t it?” Crowley’s tone was sour. He could label Michael and Raphael the same brand of royal feathered-dickheadednes while Lucifer was an altogether different classification, but Gabriel… Crowley actually <em> liked </em> the trickster’s antics when he finally met him in person since, apparently, the Winchester needed the collective assistance of almost <em> half </em> the population of the Empty.</p><p> </p><p>“Gabriel?” Rowena looked honestly startled at the conclusion before huffing out a chuckle. “Goodness, no. Well, it was true that we had a memorable summer fling, but that was just it. A fling.” Crowley had a sudden urge to wipe that smug smirk off her face when she leaned across, her chin on her hand. “You really don’t know, huh. Then I won’t tell.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then don’t,” he challenged. “I could care less who you shag.”</p><p> </p><p>It only made her let out a tinkling laugh. “Have fun figuring it out, dearie.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The thing was, it did bother Crowley. Greatly. Not that he would admit it.</p><p> </p><p>It bothered him that he didn’t know when he was in the business of knowing all the comings and goings, most especially when it concerned his mother.</p><p> </p><p>“M-My King,” interrupted the nondescript bespectacled demon who had been giving a statistical report in the last hour. “Would you like me to repeat again?”</p><p> </p><p>“Did I ask you to?” Crowley snapped.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” the demon said reluctantly. “But you seem distracted and I thought—”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley leveled the demon a flat stare.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t need it. R-Right. I’ll—excuse me, Your Majesty.”</p><p> </p><p>That didn’t take much, Crowley mused as he watched the demon skitter away. He must say, he liked what his mother had done with the place. The common rank and file seemed to have developed some kind of backbone, not enough to stand up to him but enough to be assertive and be heard if they believed they deserved it. Hell’s fleet has decent soldiers of males and females unlike before during Crowley’s rule where he had made them all go corporate. There was also an effective reward and punishment system in place, not only for the demons but also for the newcomers, and Crowley couldn’t find it in himself to think of a better idea knowing it was what he used to struggle with.</p><p> </p><p>He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but Rowena had an impressive leadership during her brief reign. She had warmed the throne enough for Crowley who in turn inherited it back since he returned. He hadn’t wanted to return to this bleak and dreadful place, but seeing as so far his subjects hadn’t seen it fit to ridicule his rule if they remembered the kind of king that he had been, Crowley begrudgingly stayed and kept the changes his mother had put in place.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t get it. Rowena had it going for her: she had been the Queen of the Damned, still that powerful witch even after death, and she had been feared and respected as a monarch. It hadn’t been a secret to Crowley back then that she wanted the blasted throne and despised him for not acting like a king that he should be. And yet she ended up discarding the crown, the title, and the power that came along with both, and for what? To return to the living as a witch who lived as a leech to sustain her excessive lifestyle.</p><p> </p><p>No. No, no, no. It couldn’t be because of that so-called ‘romance’, could it? Crowley hated that he had no idea, the curiosity making him itch to the bone.  </p><p> </p><p>He would get to the bottom of this.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Something took pity on Crowley and allowed him to discover the answer to the Big Secret™ within the next three days.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s eyes could do without seeing Rowena fervently swapping spits with someone when he appeared in the middle of the bunker, but in the end, it all boiled down to deciding which was worse:  </p><p> </p><p>Catching his own mother gearing up for some action with someone or to find out that said someone was none other than Sam Winchester.</p><p> </p><p>Sam <em> fucking </em>Winchester.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was out of the place within a beat.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“You know about it and you don’t care?” Crowley scoffed. “Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Look, they can’t seem to take their hands off each other,” Dean argued. A pinched look fell on his face as if repressing some images. “And Sam is a grown ass man. He can decide which woman he wants to date.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, and he picks a notorious evil skank.” Crowley wasn’t liking less and less how lax Dean was at this revelation. “Your precious baby brother is dating—not casual, but <em> dating </em> —an evil witch who might have doused him with an unholy love potion or hit him with some kind of memory-altering magic, and you don’t <em> care</em>. Really.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean grunted. “Geez, I heard you the first time.” He took a huge bite off his burger, munching unflatteringly. “Call your mom whatever you like, but Rowena’s been reliable in the last few years. With Sam’s track record, he could do worse.”  </p><p> </p><p>He made it sound so simple as if Crowley should understand it easily since he had been gone for quite a while. “So just because she’s some sort of an ally now, they’ll forget ever meaning to kill each other before?”</p><p> </p><p>“Pretty sure they’ve gone past that in some equally strenuous way.” He had that same pinched look again that was gone with a sigh. “Can’t blame them though, I know they’ve worked through some stuff recently.”</p><p> </p><p>“'Some stuff’. I’m going to need more than that.”</p><p> </p><p>“What for? Can’t you just be happy for your mom? I’m the one telling you that she’s a better person than before. I thought you know that by now with your weekly lunch dates and all.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean seemed to be under the impression that Crowley could forget familial bad blood with a couple of meals shared together. He evaded that line of question. “Forgive me for not buying that you, who would go to great lengths of protecting your more naïve younger brother, would hand him off in a silver platter to a woman who was your enemy once. Not to mention said woman shagging your baby brother is centuries older than your great-grandmother. What am I supposed to believe, Squirrel?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, when you put it like that, it sounds like the worst thing to ever happen,” Dean pointed out. “It’s not, and for all I know Sam secretly has a mommy kink or something… which I think he might have but that’s beside the point. What’s up with you anyway?” He frowned before a realization dawned on him. “Are you jealous?”</p><p> </p><p>“Me? Jealous?” Crowley snapped, too sharply than he intended. “Why the bloody hell will I be?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not kidding on the mommy thing. Though last time I checked, you’re still her legitimate son.” At the scowl Crowley sent him, a grin split on Dean’s face. “That aside, I heard that you and Rowena have been reconnecting. But with her new beau and all, her time is divided between you, him, and whatever it is that she’s doing when it’s not Sammy.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley could feel an impending migraine. “No,” he said firmly. “I don’t care,” he reiterated, convincing no one at all.</p><p> </p><p>Dean snickered. “Sure. Whatever you say.”   </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>To Crowley’s surprise, Rowena had been waiting for him when he arrived at their agreed meeting place.</p><p> </p><p>To his surprise, he still went.</p><p> </p><p>It was within his right to revel at her expression of uncertainty once he was across her.</p><p> </p><p>“So you know,” she said quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“You said to ‘have fun’ figuring it out.”</p><p> </p><p>She winced. “Aye. I did say that, but that was before when I didn’t know you wouldn’t approve.”</p><p> </p><p>It was Crowley’s turn to raise an eyebrow. There was not an ounce of that smugness in her from their previous meeting, and Crowley was assaulted with the thought that her involvement with the Moose wouldn’t be like her prior encounters with men she chased after for their wealth. This was serious. Rowena was serious.</p><p> </p><p>“Why does it matter if I approve?” It was at least good to know that someone capable was keeping her in check, though he would rather it wasn’t a Winchester, but whatever.</p><p> </p><p>Rowena frowned confusedly at the question. “Because he’s one of your friends and your evil bitch of a mother got her hooks on him?”</p><p> </p><p>True, but that wasn’t what he meant. “Friends? Hardly. If anything, the Winchesters are the prized horses that I’ll bet on for any Apocalypse-related race.”</p><p> </p><p>If Rowena didn’t buy that, she didn’t comment.</p><p> </p><p>“Why him?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why not him?” she shot back. “It’s true that we have a rocky... murderous start, but they do say all is fair in love and war.” She couldn’t look at him straight, uncharacteristically bashful all of a sudden. “I can’t explain it, Fergus. I’m not good with this shite, but it feels right somehow. You know what kind of person I was—still am, to some extent. I wasn’t a good person. I’ve been evil, petty, and cruel. Basically irredeemable. I know what he is too, what choices and decisions he made before. The thing is, despite knowing those about each other, we don’t have to be perfect to be together.” She inclined her head, a small sincere smile in her lips. “In a way, I think that makes us understand one another more.”</p><p> </p><p><em> “Take it,” </em> Crowley remembered her telling him without hesitation about the throne of Hell once the whole God debacle was done. <em> “I’m done with Hell and being its queen. I just want to go back and live, Fergus.” </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>“When you have that, all the power and prestige in the world pale in comparison, no? I suppose the only thing I regret is not realizing it sooner that there are things more significant that cannot be bought.”  </p><p> </p><p>All this time, Crowley had been puzzling over as to what or who changed her mind only to find out it was Sam Winchester. On second thought, it was undoubtedly a Winchester who could completely change someone this way.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was a testament to that claim.</p><p> </p><p>They’ve been both silent after that conversation, and Crowley frankly wasn’t expecting much afterward. Except before they could part ways, Rowena tiptoed and gave him a peck on his cheek.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” she whispered to his ear before disappearing into the crowd that met them in the city.</p><p> </p><p>Rowena became soft, most of her sharp edges blunt. It was light-years far from what Crowley expected to return to.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t complaining though.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It wasn’t his intention to confront Sam regarding it, but since Crowley was already in the spirit of getting involved with his mother’s affairs, he found himself risking a surprise appearance in the bunker.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, he didn’t stumble upon Sam and Rowena sucking each other’s faces again. In fact, it was only Sam present. Perfect.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s mouth was pressed into a thin line. “You shagged my mother,” he accused.</p><p> </p><p>Sam’s face couldn’t settle with either surprise, embarrassment, amusement, or all three. “Wha—”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t expect me to call you Dad.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It wasn’t until he was once more listening to a dreary monthly report that he believed he thought of an ingenious idea.</p><p> </p><p>Sam used to be the Boy King who had a claim in the throne of Hell while Rowena was the previous Queen of Hell. Therefore, whatever offspring they might have would be born with a valid claim to the throne as well.  </p><p> </p><p>He <em> wasn’t </em> going to dwell on the process of them making it, but Crowley mused that the prospect of a half-brother or half-sister wasn’t as awful as he initially thought if it meant Crowley would be replaced as king after give or take eight decades.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley couldn’t wait to get his vacation. </p>
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